


Smile For The Camera

by BrokenHazelEyes



Series: OT4- Greg/Ed/Sam/Spike [15]
Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bottom Spike, Consensual Kink, Handcuffs, Other, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenHazelEyes/pseuds/BrokenHazelEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trying to jerk his limbs free, Spike glared down at Sam and then turned to Ed with the same anger. The cold metal of the cuffs chilled his wrists, letting him know that they were the real deal and he wasn’t getting out until one of the two let him out. <br/>Sam didn’t let him ponder it long, grabbing him by the hips and controlling all his actions. Spike watched, his anger melting just a little, as the blonde’s sniper’s arms flexed, pulling him up. Then, the same arms drew him down sharply and Spike let out a breathless whine as his toes curled. Sam was rock-hard and solid within him, the heat warming him to the core and spreading to his entire body, as Spike bounced on his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile For The Camera

**Author's Note:**

> I tried, again... Let me know what you think. :)  
> Please leave feedback so I don't starve to death over here, because I live off of kudos and comments...mostly comments. I'm greedy. Thank you to everyone who has left feedback, it means so much to me! :D   
> Have an awesome day, and I will hopefully see you soon.
> 
> A/N: I do not own Flashpoint nor the characters. I do not make a profit from my writing. However, it's still my writing so please don't repost anywhere. Thanks!

Greg knew, immediately, that his lovers were up to something. Peering at the unread email, which had arrived during his meetings but he hadn’t _dared_ open it, the negotiator hesitantly clicked it open. The dark hotel room he was staying the night in—hours away from his lovers—was lit up solely by his laptop screen and the dimness didn’t make Greg feel any better about looking at what his lovers had sent him. The email was blank, no subject line or any text within the body, save for one video attachment.

The sergeant just blinked at it, knowing it was not going to be anything good. Ed was way too mischievous for his own good, and Sam was following in his footsteps while Spike ended up being their target far too often. Not that Spike complained when it was over, though.

Leaning back against the pillows, Greg opened the video and sucked in a breath as it started to play.

* * *

 

Spike moaned, a mix of arousal and annoyance that was purely him, and pushed back on the fingers slowly stretching him open. His legs were already open as far as they could go—the muscles protesting loudly—and his back was arched so wildly that he knew it would hurt come morning. He could see Ed laughing from his place in the chair near the bed; and Spike shoved his burning red face into the pillow when he caught his reflection in that damn camera. The rough cotton didn’t smother his groans, and it jumped a few octaves when Sam pulled one of his legs out from under him—sending his pelvis crashing into the blonde’s thighs, and he rutted for friction even though a hand firmly smacked him on the ass for his actions.

“Calm down,” Ed said from across the room, having far too much fun, “You’re far from done.”

“Well could we— _ah_ —get a move on?” Spike shuddered, “I think I’m ready.”

Sam’s fingers twisted from within him, and the air in his lungs rushed free in a gasp. They brushed the sweet spot within him, fingertips just gliding over it, and Spike violently shoved himself back onto the fingers as his cock throbbed between his legs.

“Someone’s impatient,” Sam laughed, watching the lube leak out of his lover’s hole as he moved his fingers back and forth.

“You wouldn’t be going this slowly if Ed didn’t have that camera,” Spike huffed, about ready to flip over and tackle Sam to the bed and just run this show himself.

“Aw, someone a little camera shy?” Sam cooed, grinning as Spike’s muscles trembled under his hands, “Come on, smile for Greg, baby-doll.”

Spike lifted his face out of the fabric, eyes glazed and pupils blow wide, and looked directly into the camera with a death glare that would have any criminal throwing themselves to the floor.

“Why did you leave me with these two assholes?”

“That’s enough,” Sam laughed, shoving Spike’s face back into the pillow, “All I want to hear out of you is moans and our names.”

The younger sniper looked over at Ed, and the bald man nodded so Sam jostled their brown-eyed lover around until he got him in the position he wanted. Spike looked dazed, sitting in Sam’s lap as the man lounged against the headboard and grabbed a condom off the nightstand before rolling it on. The bomb tech got the idea pretty quick, happily lowering himself down onto the blonde’s cock and placing his hands on Sam’s chest for leverage.

With his brunette lover thoroughly distracted by the feeling of _finally_ being filled, Sam fisted his hands in the short locks and pulled Spike down for a kiss, letting his legs fall flat on the bed at Ed’s vague command.

Spike let him control the kiss, easily giving over control, and Sam slowly reached over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand as quietly as possible. The Italian was impatient, using his legs to try and fuck himself on Sam’s prick, but Sam kept him locked in the kiss.

A glint of silver came forth from the drawer, and Sam balanced the open handcuffs in one hand as he used the other—falling free from Spike’s hair—to draw the bomb tech’s arms behind his back. The brunette didn’t seem to care, having a good time slowly rocking in Sam’s lap—and good gosh that was so delicious and distracting—and whimpering into the kiss. He let his arms be drawn behind him without truly thinking of the action, but he broke away from the kiss when the metal snapped tight around his wrists.

Trying to jerk his limbs free, Spike glared down at Sam and then turned to Ed with the same anger. The cold metal of the cuffs chilled his wrists, letting him know that they were the real deal and he wasn’t getting out until one of the two let him out.

Sam didn’t let him ponder it long, grabbing him by the hips and controlling all his actions. Spike watched, his anger melting just a little, as the blonde’s sniper’s arms flexed, pulling him up. Then, the same arms drew him down sharply and Spike let out a breathless whine as his toes curled. Sam was rock-hard and solid within him, the heat warming him to the core and spreading to his entire body, as Spike bounced on his lap.

“I want to touch you,” Spike attempted, his high pitched voice knocking up to an even higher level as he bit his lip.

“Nice try,” Sam laughed, and Spike became concerned when he realized Ed was doing absolutely nothing except filming… like he was waiting his turn… _fuck_. “You’re not getting out of those cuffs.”

“ _Sam_ ,” Spike moaned, lightly fighting the restraints for emphasis, but it turned into a wail when the blonde pulled him into a sharp thrust that sent a tremor up his entire body. The younger sniper leaned forward, grabbing the skin of Spike’s neck between his teeth and worried the flesh just enough that it sent tingles down Spike’s nerves.

A hand hit him hard on the ass again, and Spike rocked with the sensation and clenched around Sam’s cock—and they both moaned, heads thrown back and sweat on their brows. Spike’s thighs were shaking now, soft little pants escaping his red lips, as he tried to give as good as he was getting.

He swiveled his hips, clenching tight around his lover, and put all his energy into moving his body in sync with Sam’s. The blonde’s knuckles were white from how hard he was holding the brunette, leaving imprints of his hands like a claim of territory.

Spike noticed how erratic Sam’s thrusts were becoming, the blonde’s eyes struggling to stay open as he manhandled the bomb tech around—and Spike didn’t dare look at Ed because he knew he’d just see that damn camera and the bald sniper’s predatory grin.

The Italian went to complain, for what he didn’t really know, but as soon as his mouth opened Sam’s hand curled around his cock and all that fell from his lips was a jumble of the blonde’s name.

“Sam, S _am, SAM_!” Spike cried as the blonde hit a new angle and something brilliant exploded inside the bomb tech. The hand around him sped up, and Spike curled into himself a little bit—the only thing holding him up being Sam’s hands and his own stubbornness—as his orgasm washed over his body and made him lightly convulse.

He felt Sam follow him off the edge, the younger sniper pressing as close as possible as a growl of his lover’s name escaped his dry throat. They stayed still for a minute or so, panting, before Spike shook his wrists.

“Can you take the cuffs off now?” He asked, but deep down inside him he knew the bonds weren’t coming off yet.

Sam pulled out of him, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he heard the chair creak so he turned around, curious. Ed was walking over—in his naked glory, his well-toned body on display—with the camera still in his hand.

“Not quite yet, Spike,” Ed smiled, handing the camera off to Sam as he slipped off the bed, and the bald sniper held up a key.

“Guys,” Spike whined, but didn’t fight as Ed unlocked one side of the handcuffs and drew Spike’s arms to the front of his body—examining the skin of his wrists before nodding and crawling onto the bed.

The bomb tech was shoved down onto his front—his cock making a valiant effort as he felt Ed press against his back—and his arms were drawn over his head. The cuff snapped back around his wrist, and Ed was holding the metal so Spike’s arms were kept stretched across the bed. Then a warm, thick arm snaked up his hips, drawing him up onto his knees before a pair of fingers slowly slipped back inside his stretched hole. He heard another condom packet rip open, and the click of a bottle as more lube slipped between his cheeks.

“ _Ed_ ,” Spike buried his face into the bedsheets, and he peeked out to see that Sam had moved the chair and now the blonde was holding the camera. Seriously, why had Greg decided it was a sane idea to leave Spike with these two? Nothing good ever came of them being left alone in a room together…

His thoughts were shattered as Ed slid home into his lover, his pelvis pressed flat against Spike’s ass and the burning arousal in the bomb tech’s blood began to spread through his body. He felt his cock twitch, and whimpered into the sheets as he tried to move with Ed. But he had no leverage; his arms were being held down, and Ed had a hand planted firmly on his thigh.

“You going to moan for us?” Ed whispered into his ear just loud enough for the camera to pick up, and Spike twisted in an attempt to kick at the team leader but it only earned him a sharp thrust and a nip to the spot Sam had been biting. Without meaning to, a loud keen escaped his mouth and Ed rewarded him with a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Ed’s movements were precise and calculated, rubbing everything inside him perfectly, as he went from deep to shallow and fast to slow.

“ _Ed_ ,” Spike repeated, his entire body trembling as he hardened again. The hand on his thigh tightened, and Spike turned his head to the side so he could breathe easier but he knew that it put him on full display for the camera. By the way Sam was grinning, he was happy with the position his two lovers were in.

“That’s it,” Ed groaned, and Spike was surprised he was so composed after sitting aroused for so long—watching Sam and Spike lose themselves while he filmed it all. His thrusts were just starting to become jerky, and Ed’s knees knocked Spike’s apart just a little further as the bald man huffed against the bomb tech’s skin.

Spike, figuring he might as well get some revenge while he was stuck here, squeezed suddenly around Ed—pushing back against him as hard as he could. He certainly got a…reaction.

Ed growled, and bit hard against Spike’s shoulder in warning as his hips snapped hard and fast against the bomb tech’s ass. The thrusts moved the brunette’s entire body, and the hand left his thigh, grabbing the oversensitive, pulsing organ between his legs. He nearly screamed, the feelings too strong, as yet another orgasm ripped through his body—every muscle tensing as his vision whited out.

The sniper behind him was still going, but it only took a few thrusts before Ed lost it too.

Spike collapsed against the bed, and he heard footsteps draw closer to the bed as Ed slipped off his back and moved to the side. The bomb tech looked up, eyes blurry and hair askew and looking completely well-fucked. His lips were bright red from kisses and bites, and there were already the beginnings of bruises shaped like hands over his body.

“Anything you want to say to Greg?” Sam asked, the camera just a few feet away from Spike’s face. The bomb tech struggled to catch his breath, and he tried to look pissed off but it just slipped into a dopey smile as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Love you,” He slurred tiredly, turning over and snuggling into Ed’s chest as the older sniper gave a full body laugh and Sam snorted. He heard Sam pad off, and he heard the computer turn on but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Ed was softly cleaning him up, whispering praises that made Spike preen, and the world outside of that didn’t really need to exist.

He just hoped they wouldn’t tell Greg that this all came about because the snipers had caught him jerking off in the shower by himself.

* * *

 

Greg’s face was heated as the video faded to black, the remnants of his own orgasm clinging to his palm and fingers.

“Love you too,” He whispered, grabbing a tissue and wiping off his hand before closing the laptop and setting it aside. Slipping under the covers, the bald negotiator moved around until drowsiness drug him down into the depths of sleep.

It wasn’t comfy—not with his lovers’ comforting embraces so far away and the bed too cold without them—but it would work.

He’d be back home tomorrow—back with the loves of his life. That’s all he cared about, and that’s all that mattered.


End file.
